


Successors

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: GTA AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew attempts their first job since they got together - infiltrating a party to assassinate Edgar’s surviving contacts in Achievement City. When things go wrong and the gents are captured, the lads have to step up and take on the others’ usual jobs to rescue them.</p><p>(tie-in oneshot to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2136012/chapters/4665129">The Great Sealand Takeover</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Successors

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Great Sealand Takeover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136012) by [whalehuntingboyfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends). 



> c/w: one minor incident of harassment, fairly graphic violence/gore, mentions of panic attacks.

“Why don’t you ever throw fancy parties like this, Geoff?” Gavin asked.

Michael had to struggle not to roll his eyes where he was standing in a corner of the expansive function room, holding a glass of champagne and trying to look rich. Over the earpiece, he heard Ryan let out a little, amused huff.

“Considering we use other people’s fancy parties as an opportunity to _kill_ them, I feel like that might not be the best idea,” he said.

“Yes, but we’d be _careful_.”

“And who’s going to pay for this big party?” Geoff cut in. It was strange to hear him in his ear while seeing him, distant, across the other side of the hall. All eyes were on Ramsey, the biggest name in the room, and Michael marvelled at how he was still able to somehow murmur into the comm without making it obvious that he was talking to himself. “Me, I suppose?”

“Well, of course,” Gavin said, and Michael thought he saw Geoff’s lips twitch, though he hid it by taking a sip of his drink.

“Focus, you,” Geoff warned, teasingly. “I’m about to talk to Layton and give a toast or some shit. You gotta be ready to take advantage of that opening to sneak out and find his computer.”

Michael fidgeted. As the conversation died down, he came back to himself. The suit he wore was uncomfortably stiff, and the tie felt like it was choking him. He wasn’t used to being all dressed up like this - Geoff was the one who went to these sorts of events, who got all decked up and went to do the smooth-talking. He was just the explosives guy.

Unfortunately, they’d had little choice.

Edgar had been dead six months now, but his contacts lived on. Judging by the party at the Corpirate’s house, there were plenty of people in league with him who were still alive and kicking in Achievement City.

“You gotta root that shit out,” Ryan had informed them. “Like weeding a garden. Or head lice. If you don’t exterminate all of them, they just come back later.”

“ _Ex-ter-mi-nate_!” Gavin had shrieked in reply - and then, at their confused silence, “Oh my God, have _none_ of you ever watched Doctor Who?”

Alex Layton was, apparently, king of the head lice. Rich factory owner, big name in the industrial sector of AC, and involved in the meth operation that Michael and the others may or may not have set on fire when they were taking out Andrew and his friends.

Apparently, Layton didn’t realise it had been them, because Geoff had easily scored tickets to his “fundraising” dinner. Gavin had gotten two more, via whatever illicit means of adding people to the guest list he had.

So here they were.

Jack was sitting in a car outside, their getaway driver. Gavin was undercover as a guest and would sneak off later to get into Layton’s files and work out who else here was a leftover crony of Edgar. When he knew them, Geoff would tag them with a small device Gavin had come up with - like a tracker, emitting a small signal that Ryan and Ray, hiding outside on the roofs of the buildings around the main manor, would pick up.

They’d snipe the targets, during the mass evacuation that would occur when Michael set off the bombs he’d planted earlier this evening.

Easy as pie, or it should be. God, speaking of pie, he was fucking _starving_. Was there no food at these fancy events? No chip and dip or complimentary dinner rolls? There were just tiny prawns on skewers, and some dodgy looking oysters that he was too scared to try. Nothing like an ill-timed bowel movement to ruin a sensitive operation.

Still. Even if he felt out of place, his suit didn’t quite fit right, and his stomach was slowly digesting itself from the inside, he was excited.

This was the first big job all six of them would work on together, since the Edgar business and, y’know. Getting together.

“Okay there, Michael?” Ray asked, in his ear. “Enjoying yourself?”

Michael could just picture him - flat on his stomach on the roof, at the ready - beanie pulled down over his ears against the slight chill of a spring evening. Little smirk tugging at his lips.

He hid his fond smile and snagged another glass of champagne from the table.

“Sure,” he replied. “There’s free food.”

“The food sucks,” Geoff grumbled immediately.

“Shhh,” Jack said. “You’re meant to be mingling.”

“No amount of food is worth the social interaction,” Ray said, and Michael huffed. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what _mingling_ involved, and he wasn’t about to risk his cover by trying to communicate with the rich toffs here.

“I’m mingling with the hors d’oeuvres,” he replied, and grabbed another handful of prawn skewers. “I got _my_ part of the job done early, so. Fuck it, I’m free to chill here.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Ray warned.

“How _dare_ you,” Michael replied. “I think I need another champagne to drown my hurt feelings.”

Ray snorted, but Ryan spoke up suddenly - voice tight and worried.

“Gavin, you going okay?”

With six people using the earpieces, it was hard to tune into everybody all the time, especially when lots of them were talking at once. The chatter tended to fade into the background - Geoff’s idle conversation, or Ryan murmuring to Ray when a potential target left the building.

Now, Michael realised that Gavin had begun talking to someone - he’d assumed it was a waiter, but as he focused and actually listened to the conversation, he frowned. There was a quick, tight note in Gavin’s voice - the sort Michael knew he only got when he was uncomfortable.

“No thank you,” he was saying. “I’m quite alright. I’ve had rather a lot of drinks already.”

Whoever he was talking with said something the comm didn’t pick up; Michael only caught a faint murmur of a low voice, a lilting note in it - some sort of accent. Whatever they said, it made Gavin laugh, but not a fun laugh. A ‘please stop talking to me’ awkward laugh, like he was just being polite but really wanted to escape the conversation as quickly as possible.

Michael scanned the room for him, furiously. It was growing crowded, now - there had to be a few hundred guests in here, at least - but they’d been standing near each other before, and soon he caught sight of Gavin standing by one of the side tables, loaded with canapés (so that’s where the food was!). Two glamorous, Nordic looking people were hemming him in. They both had to be well over six feet - the woman’s heels giving her an extra edge - a slender, matching set of blondes, the lady’s sweeping dark gown and feathered cape making her look like some sort of sinister ice witch. The man’s hair was slicked back so sharply and slathered with so much product that it gleamed under the lights of the chandelier. It looked like plastic, Ken-doll hair. Even from here Michael could tell they were intimidatingly beautiful, with cheekbones like knives and eyes like steel.

As he watched, the woman reached out and touched Gavin’s cheek, chuckling something to her male companion that made his thin lips pull into a smile. Gavin flinched at her touch, her long sharp nails painted a dark red like dried blood, and that only made both of them laugh a bit louder.

Michael saw red.

Gavin was tactile with the five of them, but Michael knew he didn’t like randoms touching him, especially without asking. Without even thinking about it, he began to shove his way through the crowd towards them, ignoring Jack’s warning, “ _Michael_ ,” in his ear.

“You’re so cute.” He could hear the woman speaking through Gavin’s mic now, her voice a low, enthralling hum, touched with some sort of Scandinavian accent. “Where are you staying? Do you live here in Achievement City?”

“Um,” Gavin said, flustered. His shoulders were hunched up, defensive as a turtle, and he was clutching his champagne glass like a weapon.

“We have a hotel near here,” the man added. “What did you say you worked in, data management? It must pay very well if you are here. But our hotel is very, very expensive. Six star, supposedly.”

Michael was quite certain six stars was not a thing that _existed_. He was close enough to see the man step even closer now, and Gavin lean back automatically, bent back so far he was in danger of falling into the pyramid of sushi behind him. It would’ve been comical if Michael wasn’t so fucking furious.

“I’m actually flying back to London tonight,” Gavin lied, frantically. “Sorry.”

“What time is your flight?” the woman asked, immediately. “We could drive you to the airport.”

“Is Gavin being cajoled into a threesome?” Ray asked, incredulously - he, Ryan and Jack were silent now, intently listening.

“Michael,” Ryan cut in through gritted teeth, “Get him the fuck out of there.”

“Trust me,” Michael hissed back, “I’m on it.”

He finally broke through a crowd of people who’d been lining up for some sort of fancy wine that was being opened. Gavin looked up and saw him. Their eyes met, and Michael saw him nearly slump with relief.

“Actually, I’m here with someone,” he said, and the other two turned to see what he was looking at behind them. Michael marched right up by Gavin’s side, slipping an arm around his waist and tugging him closer, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Sup babe,” he said.

“ _Babe_ ,” Ray snorted in his ear.

The couple seemed distinctly unimpressed by his sudden appearance and rather uncouth introduction. Honestly, Michael couldn’t give a flying fuck. He gave them both the most heated glare he could muster. Hot enough to melt ice, or he hoped so, rather wishing the two of them would disintegrate into a puddle like the Wicked Witch.

“Sorry,” he continued, in an obnoxiously cheerful voice. “I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

“What else is new?” Gavin asked, his voice soft and fond. Michael looked over to find him smiling at him in relief, and rubbed his side soothingly.

The couple were staring between the two of them, looking rather like vultures that had been robbed of their prey. Michael had to say, they were pretty bold going around a party just targeting randoms - most of them probably criminals - for a threesome. And hell, he was hardly one to judge given his own somewhat unconventional relationship, but this was poor, shy Gavin - Gavin who could never say no to people and who froze like a deer in the headlights if someone he didn’t know talked to him in public. So he was not in a very forgiving mood.

“Who are these?” he demanded, nodding at the two of them.

“Sonya and Mikhail,” Gavin replied, looking back at them, much more confidently with Michael at his side. “They run a steel manufacturing business. Specialise in knives.”

“Oh my God, try and get free stuff from them,” Ray demanded immediately. Michael ignored him, staring at Sonya challengingly as he held out a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Michael,” he replied.

“We have similar names,” Mikhail said, randomly, as he shook Michael’s hand as well. “You and Gavin here are…”

Michael looked pointedly between the two of them, tugged Gavin closer, and smiled his best _I will fucking blow you up_ smile. They got the hint.

“It seems you are already busy this evening,” Sonya said.

“Tried to tell you that,” Gavin muttered, so quietly Michael could barely hear it. “About fifteen times.”

“Come on,” Sonya said, and took Mikhail’s arm. They drifted back into the crowds, a pair of imposing, glacial figures. Michael scowled after them.

“Geoff,” he said after a moment, “Can you tag those two to get sniped as well?”

“Hm?” Geoff replied, distractedly. He’d been talking the whole time as more and more people approached him, and probably hadn’t even heard what’d gone on. Michael couldn’t blame him; it was hard to focus on two conversations at once.

“Michael,” Gavin chided gently, tugging at his arm. “We don’t need to go that far.”

Michael turned to him, eyes burning - righteously furious again as he took in Gavin’s worried face and wide eyes. God, he loved him. Even after six months and a _lot_ more self defence lessons, the urge to protect him hadn’t faded one bit.

“They were making you uncomfortable,” he replied, fiercely. “They wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I was trying to be polite,” Gavin replied, uncertainly. “I think I might’ve accidentally led them on a little.”

“I heard you,” Ryan cut in, voice still tight and annoyed, but less frantic now that the threat, minor as it was, had been dealt with. “You didn’t _accidentally_ do anything. You were quite clear.” And then, after a moment, “Assholes.”

Michael tangled their hands together and tugged Gavin closer to him, heedless of the crowds nearby or the stray person leaning past them to get to the snacks.

“Is this okay?” Gavin whispered, a bit more aware, though he still leaned into Michael’s touch. “People will see that we’re together.”

“That’s kinda the point,” Michael replied, drily.

Gavin laughed, but he still seemed uncertain.

“This isn’t part of our cover,” he began, but Michael just snorted.

“Who cares?” he whispered. “We’re gonna blow this place up anyway. Stay close to me for the rest of the night, alright?”

Gavin nodded, and gave a little smile. He leaned in towards Michael, wrapping his arms around his waist and cuddling close to him - Michael pressed his forehead to the other man’s shoulder and rocked him gently for a moment before planting a soft kiss on his neck.

They pulled apart, and Gavin laughed.

“How many prawns did you eat?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Michael demanded. In his ear, Ray dissolved into a fit of cackling.

“I can smell them,” Gavin said.

“Wow,” Michael replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “I swoop in to save you and all you do is comment on my _breath_? Rude. Fucking rude and unacceptable, I can’t fucking believe this.”

Gavin laughed, and leaned in to peck Michael on the lips, a quick, stolen kiss. Michael couldn’t help his grin as he rested his hands on Gavin’s hips.

“Did anyone see you do that?” Jack asked, sharply.

“No one’s looking,” Michael replied. “It’s fine. Even if they were, who fucking cares. It’ll stop them bothering Gav.”

Ray gave a hum of agreement, and Michael tangled his fingers in Gavin’s and tugged him along to the other side of the room, deciding to get away from this spot.

“All good now?” Ryan asked, ever-concerned.

“All good, lovely Rye-bread,” Gavin replied, and exchanged a small smile with Michael.

Geoff had finished whatever conversation he’d been having by now, and as they emerged towards the front of the hall, Michael caught his eye across the room and gave a small nod. Geoff’s eyes flickered between him and Gavin before he nodded back and took up a champagne glass and a fork, stepping onto the stage at the front of the hall and loudly tinking the two utensils together.

“Attention everyone!” he hollered, and the crowds turned to look. Layton was standing nearby, and Michael saw him turn in surprise, eyebrows rising at the sight of Geoff’s impromptu speech.

“Ladies, gentlemen, distinguished individuals. You over there in the fucking terrible purple suit - seriously, dude, you look like a fucking eggplant - attention everyone, please. Big boss of Achievement City about to give a speech, here. You’ll want to listen up. I’m about to announce a lot of investment opportunities.”

There was a murmur of interest as people began to gather around the stage to watch. Michael pulled Gavin towards the back of the room.

This was their distraction, their chance to slip away so Gavin could find a computer.

“I didn’t realise you were planning on giving a speech,” Michael heard Layton say.

Geoff turned to him with an easy grin.

“Just wanted to thank our gracious host. Say a few words about the city. If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course,” Layton replied, mildly.

“Come on,” Gavin whispered, tugging Michael’s arm. Everyone had congregated towards the stairs, and it made it easy for them to slip around the back of the crowds and out of the hall. Michael had memorised the security guards’ schedules earlier, as he’d needed to sneak away to plant the bomb. Now he led the way, clutching Gavin’s hand and leading him along.

“ _Dun, dun, dun-dun dun, dun, dun-dun,”_ Gavin hummed. It took Michael a moment to recognise the Mission Impossible theme, and he stifled a snort.

“Shut up, idiot. Don’t you understand the concept of _stealth?”_

“Of course I do, Michael! I’ve played _so much_ Hitman.”

Michael rolled his eyes. He tugged Gavin back against a wall as another guard passed by the corridor next to them. _Now_ Gavin was silent, but he was beaming at Michael, hands pressed flat to the other man’s chest, big green eyes shining. It was nice not to see him scared for once, even in a potentially dangerous situation, and Michael couldn’t help but grin back. This _was_ exciting, more exciting than solo jobs or ones just with Ray had ever been.

“Undetected,” Gavin whispered, and Michael rolled his eyes again.

“Seriously though, Gav, don’t take your stealth tips from video games. Otherwise all we’d need to sneak in here is a white hoodie.”

“I don’t get it,” Gavin replied, blankly, as MIchael gently pushed him off and led the way towards Layton’s study.

“Jack gets it,” Michael replied. “Don’t you, Jack?”

There was no reply, just an exasperated huff from Ray’s end. Michael figured he was ignoring him as a joke, or wrapped up in Geoff’s rambling speech, which had now devolved into irrelevant personal anecdotes.

“Wow. Rude,” he said, but quickly refocused as they reached the study and slipped inside. Michael set to guarding the door, as Gavin sat in front of the computer. No mucking around now; he was instantly focused on the job, fingers flying expertly over the keyboard.

“Edgar, Edgar…” he murmured.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but it looks smart,” Michael said. “If you could go just a _bit_ faster, though, it might be good.” He could hear footsteps thudding somewhere nearby. No one should’ve been running around, not yet - he hoped they hadn’t discovered the bomb. He couldn’t tell if they were on the storey above or below them.

“I don’t tell _you_ to do your job faster, Michael!” Gavin replied, indignantly.

“Maybe because my job involves giant fucking explosions if anything goes wrong.”

“Nearly there,” Gavin assured him, and typed furiously for a few moments. “Ah ha!”

“Jack?” Ray asked, suddenly. There was a sharp note to his voice that made Michael stiffen.

“Got it!” Gavin crowed, and Michael’s attention was divided once more. Gavin had faces and names up on the screen, and Michael looked over his shoulder, then took a quick photo of the men. There were half a dozen of them, and he recognised a few he’d seen out on the hall floor.

“They’ll all be wearing suits,” Gavin added, “So we’d better point them out to Geoff so he can tag them and Ryan and Ray can take them out easily.”

“Sounds like Geoff’s speech has stopped,” Michael said - he could hear Layton talking instead, now, but wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. He was more concerned with Ray.

“Jack? Come in, Jack,” Ray was repeating. “What the fuck, I can hear the feedback from his comm but he’s not answering.”

“Jack?” Michael prompted, but there was no answer. Something nervous built up in his stomach. “Ryan, Ray, are you both still in position on the roofs?”

“Yep,” Ray replied, but there was no response from Ryan, and Michael’s heart sank further.

“Ryan? Come in.”

Nothing but silence - Michael exchanged a glance with Gavin, whose eyes had gone wide. _Now_ he looked scared.

“Ryan, Jack, are you there?” Michael tried again, and when there was nothing, he cursed. “Fuck - Ray, can you see them from where you are? Why’d they just _vanish?_ I didn’t hear anything happen!”

“Me either,” Ray replied. “I can’t see Ryan from where I am. Gonna move across the roof and try and get eyes on Jack. He should’ve been fine - he was just meant to be in a car nearby.”

Michael heard him get up and start to shuffle around on the other end of the intercom. Gavin tugged at his sleeve, and he started to bat him away, impatient, but when he turned and saw Gavin’s face, he froze at the fear in the other man’s eyes.

“Michael,” Gavin hissed. “Something’s wrong. It’s too quiet.”

Michael froze.

Gavin was right. He couldn’t hear the echo of the microphone from downstairs any longer, and Geoff’s intercom was silent too, now. After those footsteps he’d heard earlier…

 _Fuck_.

“Can you hear Geoff?” he asked, just in case it was his earpiece malfunctioning.

Gavin shook his head, and Michael bit his lip. A terrible, tense sense of danger was rising up in his stomach. This wasn’t fun any more, he was just _worried_. He readied his gun and motioned for Gavin to get up.

“Michael,” Ray whispered in his ear. “Jack’s not in the car. It’s empty. But something’s going on in the house - I can see through the window a bit. All the guards have moved towards the doors and windows.”

“Fuck,” Michael said. Something had gone very, very wrong here. “Okay. Gavin, hide in here. I’m gonna go see what’s happening.”

Gavin shook his head furiously.

“No,” he said. “I’m coming with you. It’s safer.” Michael opened his mouth to protest, but Gavin continued, firmly, “I’m not staying behind like last time, Michael!”

 _Last time._ It took a moment, but Michael abruptly remembered how Ryan had left Gavin to pursue Edgar - how even if it had been for his own protection, he’d ended up in danger, and Michael had been the only one left to get him out of there. If something like that happened now, there’d be no one to help Gavin, no one watching from back at the base.

He nodded, and saw Gavin’s face flicker with relief.

“Stay close, then,” he said. “And be fucking _quiet_.”

Gavin nodded - Michael reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly before peering out the door, checking the corridor was clear, and then sneaking out of the room.

Gavin stuck close behind him as they made their way back towards the hall. There were no guards around, Michael noticed - he could hear Layton’s voice now, indistinguishable from this distance, but addressing the crowds. They emerged again at the back of the hall, from the exit near the toilets, and Michael peered in and froze.

Here were all the guards - at the doors and windows, as Ray had said, and surrounding the stage. Layton stood up there, and beside him was Geoff, being restrained by two of the security with a gun to his head and one of the guards’ arms hooked around his throat, keeping his jaw pressed shut, his eyes blazing.

“-found your sniper, too,” Michael heard Layton sneer. “And your _boyfriend_. You really think I’d just _invite_ you here after what you did to Edgar? You thought I wouldn’t know you’d be coming after me, too?”

Even from here, Michael could see the hatred on Geoff’s face. His own heart was pounding.

_They have Ryan and Jack. They found them, somehow._

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Layton suspected us - he’s turned on him.”

“Who, Geoff?” Ray replied.

“Yes,” Michael hissed. “And he took the others. Have you got a shot from where you are?”

“Too many guards,” Ray replied. “They’ll take out Geoff if I try anything- oh, fuck.”

“Ray?” Michael asked, alarmed. He glanced at Gavin, who had a hand pressed to his mouth, eyes huge and worried.

There was a commotion from over Ray’s end. Michael could hear him moving, and faint yelling in the distance - a woman’s voice, harsh and commanding.

“Gotta split!” Ray cried, breathless. “Get to the car, guys, _now_. We need to get out of here!”

“But Geoff!” Gavin squawked. “Ryan, Jack - we can’t just leave them!”

“We can’t help them from here,” Ray replied. He was still on the move, his voice coming in jolts and starts as he climbed down from the roof. “Michael, blow the building. They’ll evacuate and it’ll give the others a chance to escape. If they don’t, we’ll go after them from the base-”

Two gunshots rang out, both over the comm and from outside. There was immediate chaos in the hall, the guests jumping and screaming and spinning around to look, the guards straightening up at the windows. Michael saw Geoff try and take the chance to escape, elbowing the guard holding him in the face - but there were too many, and another woman slammed the butt of her gun into his gut. He doubled over, falling to his knees, and beside Michael Gavin let out a choked little whimper.

Michael thought fast. It was his choice to make - the bomb was upstairs, at the back of the building. It wasn’t so big that it would risk their lives to set it off.

 _Stay here and save the gents - or get out there and help Ray._ It was a horrible decision, but he was forced to make it in just a few seconds.

Ray was alone.

Layton hadn’t killed the gents yet - he had to have something else in mind. A moment later, Michael pushed Gavin back down the corridor. There was a kitchen delivery door they could get out.

“Go, go!” he hissed.

Gavin struggled in his grip, trying to break free.

“Michael, we can’t leave them!” he protested, but Michael seized him by the shoulders, staring into his eyes intensely.

“What can we do, Gavin?” he demanded. “There’re too many fucking guards! If we get out of here, we can find them later. You know how to do that, don’t you? Track people down?”

He held his gaze for a moment, and finally Gavin gave a jerking nod. He was breathing heavily now, shaking in Michael’s grip - but Michael didn’t have time to stop and comfort him. He grabbed Gavin’s hand instead and pulled him out that side door. They emerged into the cold night air down the side of the building, and Michael fumbled the remote out of his pocket. He spared one final glance back, and pressed the button.

The explosion rocked the ground under them and made their ears ring. Michael clung to Gavin, steadying him, but already stumbling away. He heard screams and yells from inside - it wouldn’t be long before the guards came after them. They had no time to waste. He pulled Gavin through the maze of cars to where their escape vehicle had been parked. Some part of himself still expected to see Jack sitting behind the wheel, but it was empty, one door hanging open.

A dark figure suddenly emerged from behind a nearby Lamborghini, and Michael raised his gun.

“Hey!” a familiar voice yelled.

Ray. He was bleeding, Michael noticed, a dark stain blooming over his shoulder, through his hoodie - but he was still holding his gun. They exchanged a nod before climbing into the car. Michael was driving - Gavin clambered into the passenger seat, Ray easing himself into the back. Michael gave one final glance over his shoulder, half-hoping to see Geoff and the others running out of the building - but there was nothing but a panicked mob of guests, and a swarm of guards, and the bright flare of fire from the back of the building, and they had no choice but to flee.

 

* * *

 

Gavin was breathing too fast. He could feel the panic rising up, making his chest constrict and his vision seem to blur at the edges. It had been a long time since he was this scared, but this time it wasn’t fear for himself, it was fear for the others. When his hands started shaking too hard for him to type properly, he paused, forcing himself to try and take deep breaths, to count the way Ryan had shown him.

_One, two, three… one, two, three…_

The base was too quiet without the others there, and the second he stopped working his mind went into overdrive as he couldn’t help but imagine what might be happening to them. Blood, bruises, oh god-

Suddenly there was a warm body next to his. Ray sat down beside him, reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing soothingly. He’d been off getting patched up - he’d been grazed by a bullet getting down off the roof. They’d been lucky he hadn’t been shot properly again - his leg had only just healed. Gavin was relieved to see him walking around, at least, and he took a deep breath and squeezed his hand back, leaning in to rest his head against his shoulder, careful to avoid his actual injury.

Ray reached up and stroked a hand through his hair.

“You okay?” Gavin whispered. He could smell antiseptic, and Ray felt colder than usual.

Ray opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden loud _bang!_ made them both jump and spin around. Michael had slammed the door into the room open, and stormed in now, kicking a computer chair so hard that it skidded across the floor and crashed noisily into the opposite wall.

“Fuck!” he yelled. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \- they’re not back.”

Gavin bit his lip. They’d been waiting in the slim hope that the gents would return on their own - break free, escape, come _back_ \- but they hadn’t. He flinched as Michael kicked another chair, and Ray’s arms tightened around him.

“Michael,” he said, sternly. “Chill.”

Michael rounded on them, fists clenched by his sides.

“How can I chill when the others are out there?” he demanded. “Fuck, Ray, they could be-”

“You’re distracting Gavin,” Ray cut in.

Michael’s face softened as Gavin peered up at him sheepishly. After a moment, he pulled up a chair and came to sit with them, reaching out and squeezing Gavin’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said, gruffly, and Gavin nodded, giving him a small smile as he pulled away from Ray to turn back to the computer. Michael rolled his chair closer and reached out to inspect Ray’s injured arm instead.

“I’m fine,” Ray assured him. “And the others will be okay, too.” He caught Gavin’s eyes and gave him an intent look. “If we all just do our jobs, _they’ll be okay_.”

Gavin took a deep breath and nodded.

“This is what I’ve got so far,” he said, turning the monitor towards them. “I never thought Layton would do something like this - he’s not a gangster, he’s a businessman. He’s corrupt, yeah, but he’s not a violent person. He doesn’t get involved in the dirty, bloody side of things. And so I don’t think he’s working alone.”

He pointed to some of the security footage.

“These guards aren’t on his employment records. I don’t think they’re genuine security at all. I think he’s got another gang behind him - probably allies of Edgar’s as well. I’m gonna check them against the people on Clarence’s old files. If we figure out who he was with, we can use them to figure out where they’ve gone.”

“You can’t track them right away?” Michael asked.

Gavin shook his head.

“I wish,” he replied, miserably. “They didn’t drive. They got into a chopper, see?”

He hit another button and the screen showed security camera footage of the guards bundling three figures with hoods over their heads into a helicopter, which sped away immediately.

“No cams in the sky,” Gavin sighed. “I completely lost them. But that other gang - I can get info on them. They’ll have hideouts, places I _can_ track.”

“Okay,” Michael said, nodding.

There was an awkward pause.

This was normally where Geoff took over. Gavin would give the crew information, then Geoff would allocate tasks. Ray would be put on a roof somewhere to snipe, Michael would be told what he had to blow up and would prepare explosives accordingly.

Now, there was no one to give them orders, and somehow Ray and Gavin’s heads both turned to Michael, waiting expectantly. Maybe because he was the oldest, maybe because he seemed the most in control. His eyes widened, and he stared back at them.

“Tell us what to do,” Ray said.

“I’m not Geoff,” Michael replied.

“You are now,” Gavin said, and picked up a permanent marker from a mug on the desk. He reached towards Michael, who scooted his chair back, holding out a hand to keep him at bay.

“The fuck are you doing? You’re not drawing on my fucking face!”

“I thought a mustache might help you to get in character!”

Michael huffed out a breath. Somehow the mood was broken, their tension dissipating away into a fierce determination instead. He couldn’t be scared now, Gavin thought. Fear wasn’t productive. What they needed was to take control and work hard.

“Okay,” Michael said, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Gavin, we might need a chopper to get after these guys first. Jack normally handles that.”

The crew didn’t own their own helicopter. They normally borrowed one from a rich ally of theirs, an arms trader who operated near their main base.

“Problem is, Harrison’s pissed at us at the moment,” Michael said. “Since we decided to stop buying grenades from her, she’s been real snippy. So you’re gonna have to do the sweet talking - win her over and get that helicopter.”

Gavin hesitated. He was shy and awkward around new people - not like Jack, who was amiable and always managed to get the best deal. Not to mention, Jack handled all their money - he knew how to haggle, and how to tell if someone was asking too much.

But they had little other choice here, and he nodded. He’d find some way to do it.

Michael smiled at him, and turned to Ray next.

“Ray,” he said. “You and I are gonna go to meet this gang once Gav finds out where they are. I’ll make the plan - figure out how to approach them, find some mercs to send with you, get things ready to move as soon as we have the info we need. You’re probably gonna have to intimidate them into talking.”

Ray looked a bit taken aback.

“I’m not very scary,” he argued. “I just snipe from afar, Michael, I don’t go in and rough people up.”

“You could be scary,” Gavin protested. Maybe Ray didn’t look particularly intimidating, not like tall Ryan did, but there was something about how quiet he was that was disconcerting. If he played it right, Gavin was pretty sure he could be terrifying. “I think you can be!”

“You’re just gonna have to fake it ‘til you make it,” Michael replied, grimly, and after a moment, Ray nodded.

“Good,” Michael said. He looked between the two of them. “Once we have this info, we go after them, okay? There’s no time to waste.”

They both nodded. Gavin’s heart was pounding, but he pushed any lingering panic away. The gents were relying on them. He couldn’t let them down.

Michael looked determined as always, but Gavin could tell he was worried. Still - he was glad someone else had taken control, especially when a moment later Michael leaned in and kissed them both soundly. Gavin wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck and gave him a tight hug; Michael smiled as they pulled apart before hurrying out of the room. There was a lot to do.

“We’ve got this,” Gavin heard Ray muttered next to him. Their eyes met, and Gavin could tell he was worried too. But Ray reached out and squeezed his shoulder, then ruffled his hair before following Michael out.

Gavin took a deep breath, glad the other two were at least here with him.

_Okay. Okay. He’s right. You’ve got this._

The others had come to save him before, every time he’d been captured. Especially Ryan, he thought, remembering how when Andrew had take him, Jack and Michael, the other man had arrived guns blazing to get them out. Now it was his turn to do the rescuing.

Besides, he thought. The other men were strong. They just had to hold on for a little while. They’d be okay.

 

* * *

 

Geoff must have passed out at some point, because he found himself waking up, groggy and disoriented. He opened his eyes to something stifling and warm over his face. It was warm, and he couldn’t see, and it was hard to breathe, everything stale and stuffy and _enclosing_ , every breath a struggle. He thought that might be what had made him faint.

He groaned, and the noise sounded muffled even to his own ears. Slowly he came back to himself. His ribs hurt, and he couldn’t move - his arms were tied behind his back, he realised, and they had gone numb by now. Everything _ached_ faintly, a nagging, dull pain that he couldn’t pinpoint to one exact location.

_What the fuck happened?_

He remembered being dragged into the helicopter. A short, disorienting flight, and then landing and being frogmarched into a cold building. The beating had come after that, and he’d been flung in here and lost consciousness. They’d not once taken the bag off his head.

_Shit._

He groaned again, and tried to move. As soon as his arms twitched, they flared to life with pain, pins and needles tingling through his muscles like fire. He heard someone else shift in the room, and a warm presence move up next to him.

“Geoff? You back with me?”

“Jack?” he croaked. Just the sound of the other man’s voice eased some of the panic that’d risen up in his chest. A moment later, Jack pulled the bag off his head.

Geoff squinted. The room they were in was brighter than he’d expected, an exposed bulb on the ceiling filling the room with harsh fluorescent light. His vision blurred, then cleared again. Jack’s worried face was peering into his. He had a blossoming black eye and a trickle of blood was dried from his nose trailing down to the tip of his chin. His hands were tied in front of him, Geoff realised - lucky. That made it easier to move around, but they were thick zip ties, pulled so tight they’d be impossible to break.

“They didn’t bag you?” he asked.

Jack shook his head.

“Not once we got in here. They were showing me pictures of the other guests - wanted me to tell them who else at the party was with us. He… he knew about the lads already, but he wanted to know if there were any more. I refused to say anything - let the asshole be paranoid.”

 _The lads,_ Geoff thought. His stomach dropped.

“They get out?” he demanded, and Jack nods.

“I’m pretty sure they did. They weren’t in the chopper with us.”

“Ray was up on the roof too,” Geoff began, voice tight. “If they got Ryan-”

“I don’t think they have him,” Jack assured him, and Geoff let out a slow breath, a little of his fear easing. He looked around the room. It was bare - grimy grey walls, a rough concrete floor. A heavy metal door that didn’t look like it was budging any time soon.

“Where’s Ryan?” he asked.

Jack’s face clouded over.

“They took him some time ago,” he replied, worriedly. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Fuck,” Geoff hissed. “ _Fuck!”_

He struggled to get free, tugging at his own tight bindings - but only served to make the ties dig deeper into his skin, until he felt sticky blood and his wrists were raw and painful. A particularly violent tug sent another stab of pain through his ribs, and he gasped, falling still.

“Geoff, stop,” Jack urged. He reached out his bound hands and grabbed Geoff’s shoulder, trying to hold him still. “Are you okay? They had a bit of a go at you.”

“Yeah, I remember that part,” Geoff said. “They didn’t ask me any questions though.”

“Probably just wanted to make a point,” Jack replied, biting his lip. “They were taking photos before, after they chucked you in here. Pretty sure they’re about to let the city know they have the great Geoff Ramsey.”

“Flattered,” Geoff replied, but his mind was still on Ryan, and where the other man might be - what they could be doing to him. He tried to breathe through the pain - if they were going to get out of here, he had to be able to push through this. “My ribs are fucked up, but nothing feels life threatening. Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied, and bit his lip. “I’m just worried about Ryan.”

Geoff grit his teeth. He tried to move again, but had to pause as his side hurt. The helplessness and frustration were killing him - not being in control, not being able to protect his partners, was unbearable. This situation was humiliating enough already, but the fact that Jack and Ryan had been captured along with him only made it worse. It meant Layton had more leverage than Geoff liked to admit.

Jack must have seen the look on his face. He sat down next to Geoff, and pressed their shoulders together.

“The boys will be coming for us,” he assured him, softly.

“Yeah,” Geoff agreed, “But we still need to try and get out of here, in case we don’t have time. They could kill us any second. Not all of these assholes are stupid enough to hang around and gloat-”

He broke off at the sound of bolts sliding on the other side of the door, and then a key turning in the lock. It was flung open with a metallic bang, and Ryan was thrown into the room, landing limply on the floor. Geoff and Jack both sat up, concerned - but a moment later, Layton strode into the room, flanked by half a dozen guards.

“Oh, Geoff, Geoff, Geoff,” he tutted. He was still pristinely dressed in his suit from the dinner. Geoff’s gaze flickered down to Ryan - he was breathing, but that was the only sign of movement, and face-down as he was Geoff couldn’t see how injured he might be - but Layton stepped further into the room, and Geoff looked back up at him. He was smiling pleasantly, calm and smug. “Did you really think I would just invite you into my home after what you did to Edgar? After you practically _bragged_ that you were the one who’d taken him out?”

Geoff scowled up at him. Perhaps it _had_ been arrogant to assume that his power was enough to scare all of Edgar’s allies into scattering after their ringleader’s death.

“He’s dead and gone,” he shot back. “You should’ve forgotten about him while you had the chance.”

Layton just tilted his head, not intimidated in the slightest.

“You think he didn’t leave orders in case he died?” he replied. “He still has allies in this city. When he realised you were coming after him, he left instructions. _Successors.”_

He looked down at Ryan, and Geoff’s blood ran cold.

“Edgar relishes revenge,” Layton continued. “Even from beyond the grave. He told us all about Haywood, and what he did to him. The only reason we’re not killing the three of you yet is because he wants us to kill the others first, in front of you. That’s right,” he added, looking Geoff in the eyes with a cold smile. “We know they’re out there. We know they’re coming to rescue you. Your secret little relationship… not so secret now, is it?”

Geoff stared up at him. He wanted to stay hard and threatening, but it was difficult when his heart was pounding and he was more scared than he’d ever been at the sound of these threats. He could deal with people coming after him - he was even used to people threatening Jack. But since the six of them got together, he suddenly had so much more to worry about.

He remembered, in a horrid flash, the burned bodies that Edgar had left in warning after bombing some of Geoff’s properties in AC. He’d been afraid then, and he was afraid now.

Layton noticed he was getting to him, of course. He stepped closer and reached out, mockingly cupping Geoff’s chin and turning his head to face him.

“Jones and Narvaez, right?” he whispered. “That’s right, I know all about them. Pretty cute story, the two of them - like Bonnie and Clyde. They were building up quite the reputation. It’s a shame they had to get tangled up with you, or they might have lived long enough to get _really_ big.”

“Fuck you,” Geoff began - he made to head-butt Layton in the nose, but the second he moved, the guards stepped forward, guns rising to point at Jack and Ryan. Geoff froze, and Layton laughed, letting him go and standing up so Geoff had to crane his neck to look up at him.

“And of course,” he continued, “How could I forget poor little Gavin Free? Hasn’t he been through enough without getting dragged into your mess, too?”

Beside Geoff, Jack made a muted little noise, and Geoff saw red.

“You shut the fuck up!” he roared. “If you touch them I’ll skin you alive!”

Layton was unfazed.

“Normally it’s the Mad Mercenary that makes those sorts of threats,” he said, mildly, shooting Ryan an unconcerned glance where he lay on the floor. “Anyway. Let’s hope they come for you, eh?”

He turned and left the room with a final, mocking chuckle. The guards followed, slamming the door shut and locking it again immediately.

Geoff was trembling with rage.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he said, and turned to Jack with wide, frantic eyes. “We _need_ to escape from here!”

“We will,” Jack began. He was rising and moving to kneel next to Ryan. Geoff followed - slowly; with his ribs injured and hands behind his back, it was hard to clamber to his feet and cross the room. His stomach sank as Jack reached out with his bound hands to gently touch Ryan’s face, his fingers coming away bloody.

“Ryan? You okay?” he asked.

There was a faint, muffled groan. Ryan’s hands were also tied behind him, and by the time Geoff managed to get up and walk over to him, Jack had rolled him onto his back. Ryan looked dazed, his face swollen and bruised, his lip split and another graze on his forehead where it looked like he’d been hit with something. The blood mingled with the smudged paint on his face.

“Jack,” he said, weakly, leaning into the other man’s touch as Jack looked him over.

“You’re bleeding,” Jack said, and Geoff noticed that one of Ryan’s legs was dark and wet with blood too.

He saw Ryan swallow a few times, gathering his strength.

“Yeah,” he replied finally, “He fucking knifed me in the leg. Pretty sure I’ve got some broken fingers too. I guess they thought I’m the most dangerous one, so better to incapacitate me first… fuck.”

There was a grim pause.

“Anyway. I’ve had worse,” Ryan added, so nonchalantly that Geoff couldn’t help his shaky laugh.

“Jesus Christ, dude. You’re fucking unbelievable,” he said, but couldn’t help but be glad to see the other man his usual, stoic self. Jack helped Ryan to sit up and lean against the wall, then pressed down on the wound to keep pressure on it. Ryan hissed in pain, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth, but didn’t complain.

“Did you hear what he said?” Geoff asked after a moment. He was unsure if Ryan had been unconscious before, or just trying to get Layton to think he was more injured than he actually was.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied, gruffly. “We have to get out of here. They didn’t bag me coming back here. I saw the layout of the building - they thought I was unconscious, but I wasn’t. We’re in a factory of some kind. There are guards just outside this door, but none along the rest of the hallway. They’re all elsewhere in the building.”

“First step is to get free,” Jack said, and Ryan laughed.

“Already on it. They took all my weapons, but they didn’t take my wallet. There’s a little razor blade in there, if you can get to it. Should be able to cut the zip ties.”

Jack was immediately on it, fumbling into Ryan’s pocket to get his wallet out. Geoff was glad they had a plan - he still felt helpless, useless almost, sitting around here unable to _do_ anything while he knew the lads were walking into danger. He was itching, waiting for them to be able to do something, as he watched Jack fumble to try and open the wallet with his bound hands.

Jack looked over at him.

“Geoff,” he ordered. “Calm down.”

Geoff realised how agitated he was - how he’d twisted his wrists in the zip ties until they bled, and his leg was jittering about now, he was so worked up.

“They’re in danger,” he began.

Ryan’s calm blue eyes turned to him. There was anger in them, Geoff realised - but he was refusing to panic, not yet.

“They’re not children,” Ryan replied. “They can take care of themselves. They’re smart. Gavin will scope this place out - they’ll probably realise it’s a trap of some kind. For now, we need to keep our heads or we’ll all end up in even deeper shit than we’re already in. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Geoff agreed softly. He turned away and tried to keep calm as the others continued in silence to try and get the razor out, to work on escaping.

This had been their first heist as a crew. Maybe that was why he was so distressed about it - things had gone so _wrong_ , and they were still to some extent working out how they all fit together.

But he trusted them - Michael, Gavin, Ray - and Jack and Ryan were here with him, and they were relatively okay, and they were going to get out.

 _You trust them._ _They’ll be fine._

 

* * *

 

Ray didn’t think he looked very scary as he stepped out of the truck and paused to look at himself in the side mirror. It was hard to see in the darkness, but he thought he looked more like a rather cheap clown than an assassin of people’s nightmares. He’d attempted to paint his face like Ryan, and he was wearing one of Michael’s leather jackets - but he felt like a child playing dress-up.

Still. Pouring out of the truck behind him were half a dozen mercenaries with semi-automatics. _Those_ were scary, at least.

 _You’re nervous_ , he thought. _And it’s fucking showing_.

He couldn’t help it. He’d never really done something like this before, and his stomach was churning. The pressure of the gents being gone wasn’t helping - he couldn’t stop thinking about them. _Worrying_ about them.

“Alright, Ray?” Michael’s voice crackled into his ear. He was back at the base, working on arranging other things. He’d been running around like mad when Ray left, looking like he was juggling a dozen things at once and stressed beyond belief.

“I don’t feel very intimidating,” Ray replied.

“Because you’re not confident,” Michael said, immediately. “Remember who we’re doing this for.”

And then, a moment later: “ _Get angry_.”

Somehow, that was all it took. That simple. He thought of the gents in danger, of all his fears of what might be happening to him, of the sickening distress of having to go through this _again_ when they thought they’d dealt with Edgar.

He channelled all that, and made himself cold and hard.

 _These people helped to take them. Might have_ hurt _them._

_You’re not going to let them get away with that, are you?_

He took a deep breath. His rifle was strapped to his back, but he pulled out his knife instead, pistol in its holster at his waist ready to be drawn. He reached up and smudged the red paint on his face with the back of his hand, around his mouth until it looked like it was smeared bloody, like he’d ripped someone’s throat out with his fucking teeth, then put on the small, golden mask that Ryan had given him a few months ago. It was a stupid, delicate looking thing, like something from the Venetian _Carnivàle,_ but it covered his face well enough, and when he glanced in the mirror again, something about the hard line of his jaw and how the mask hid his eyes made him look far scarier.

“Come on,” he ordered the men, and strode into the warehouse Gavin had tracked this crew to. He was funnily giddy, the adrenaline pumping through his veins until he felt nearly invincible, like the mask was somehow an impenetrable suit of armour and nothing could touch him. He wondered if this was how Ryan felt, whenever he put his mask on.

They entered the warehouse silently, taking the people inside by surprise. The crew - half a dozen ratty looking individuals - were hanging around in the main docking bay, huddled around a table and counting money while arguing loudly amongst themselves. Ray led the way in from a side door.

He killed one right off the bat - a man standing closest to him - throwing a knife just like Ryan had taught him. It caught the man in the neck and he crumpled to the ground, blood spurting into the air like a fountain, the pressure so high from the nicked artery that it sprayed all the others immediately and continued to shower down, spattering over the walls and floor. Ray stepped forward into that red rain, heedless of how it was getting on him, pulling his pistol with his other hand, the mercenaries running in behind him as the screaming crewmembers spun around.

“Vagabond?” one of them choked out, and he heard himself laugh, dark and dangerous and not like himself.

“Worse,” he replied, voice low but carrying in the echoing space of the warehouse. “His very, very pissed off boyfriend.”

The crew fell silent as the mercenaries trained their guns on them. The blood was still showering down around them, the man gurgling and writhing on the floor. Ray tilted his head, staring down at him impassively before turning to look around at the pale faces of the others.

“You know what I’m after,” he continued. “You worked with that fucker Layton. He didn’t give up on Edgar when he had the chance. Don’t make the same mistake and side with a sinking ship.”

They stared at him, eyes wide.

“I suggest you tell me where he’s taken them,” Ray continued. “Or someone else is about to bleed out on this floor.”

He reached down and yanked the knife from the throat of the dead man before looking around, trying to scope out the easiest target. His gaze fell on the oldest looking man, a pallid, watery-eyed fellow who looked on the verge of shitting himself. Ray drew his hand back, ready to throw the knife at him, and the man went even paler.

“A factory complex in the industrial sector!” he blurted out, immediately. “Please, please - about two hours from the city. In Underwood. Number 16. Our gang owns it but Layton’s been using it for a while now.”

“Too easy,” Ray scoffed. He lowered the knife and turned on his heel.

“Kill them,” he murmured, to the closest guard. “All of them. They’re a liability if they tell Layton we’re on our way. You can take the money after.”

The woman nodded, and Ray strode out, gunfire and screams ringing out behind him. Out in the cold night air, he felt dizzy and faintly sick. He was used to sniping from afar, and didn’t like to see violence up as close as that. His shoes were sticking to the ground with each step, and he looked down to find them covered in blood from the man whose throat he’d slit.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I liked this sneakers.”

His earpiece crackled, and Michael’s voice rang out.

“Got what we need?”  
  
“Yeah,” Ray replied, but something in his voice must’ve betrayed him. Michael was silent a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, softer.

“I will be,” Ray said, and took a deep breath, trying to shake everything off. “Let’s just get the others back. Gav got the chopper yet?”

“He’s working on it.” He heard Michael sigh, and the clink of a coffee mug. “Come back to the base and we can get started on the plan now that we know the location. There’s no time to waste.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin closed his eyes and forced himself to take two slow, deep breaths.

 _You can do this. Come on. You’ve_ got this.

He’d gone undercover before, during those parties, but this was different. He wasn’t playing a role, not really - he was just representing the crew in a different way. He wasn’t _used_ to that, either - when he’d gotten all dolled up in a suit, it had been okay to be a bit shy. His aim wasn’t to draw attention to himself at the parties.

But now, he was gonna have to smooth-talk Harrison into giving them what they wanted, and it was so far out of his comfort zone that he barely had any idea where to begin.

He’d tried to dress the part - whatever that meant - and so had swapped his usual t-shirt and hoodie for a navy button-down and the sunglasses Ryan had given him, hoping that if he covered half his face she wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous he was. He was glad that Dan had come with him at least, for protection. Now they stood outside the weapon dealer’s warehouse as he tried to work up the courage to go in.

“Come on, B,” Dan urged, softly. “No time to waste.”

Gavin darted him a glance and a small smile.

“There’s still time to swap. You could do all the talking.”

“What?” Dan asked, and laughed. “You’re having a laugh!”

“I’m really not.”

“I’m not part of the main crew! Not like you are!”

“Yeah, but Geoff keeps me under wraps. These people don’t even know who I am,” Gavin argued.

Dan rolled his eyes.

“You’ve always done the talking, of the two of us,” he pointed out. “I’m just the muscle, _you’re_ the smart one. I wouldn’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I can barely get through an order at McDonalds!”

“Good point,” Gavin muttered.

Dan clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got your back. It’s just a conversation. How bad can it be?”

Gavin pulled a face, but nodded. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked into the warehouse.

Harrison was waiting for him in the front room, sitting on a stack of supply crates, a couple of her men surrounding her. They’d called ahead, so she knew he was coming, and seemed terribly amused - smirking as soon as she saw him, the gold rings in her lips glinting in the harshly lit room.

“So, you want my chopper, eh?” she called out.

Gavin smiled pleasantly back. He’d decided to take the friendly approach, mostly because he was pretty sure he wasn’t intimidating in the slightest and didn’t quite know what else to go for.

“It would be very helpful!” he replied, cheerfully. “It’s a bit of an emergency.”

“If it’s so urgent,” she said, rather gleefully, “Why don’t you go to your new friends? The ones you buy grenades from now? Or do they not have a helicopter, is it just me who has something to offer you?”

Gavin wasn’t quite sure what to do. He kept beaming away as he frantically tried to think of a response.

“I know you’re upset about that,” he settled on, finally, “But it really wasn’t anything personal. Money is money, competition is competition. They offered better prices and better quality.”

Harrison sat up like she’d had an electric shock, back pulling straight and eyes nearly popping out of her head.

 _"Better quality?”_ she roared, and Gavin struggled not to flinch.

_Oops. Shit. Gotta commit to this now - being the nice guy isn’t working. Better try and play it tough._

“Yes,” he replied, and was rather impressed with how calmly his voice came out. “That’s right. But your helicopter is something they can’t compete with - or at least, I haven’t looked, yet. If I wanted to, I could probably take this business elsewhere. There’s always someone in AC selling what you want. Hell, even Felix has a helicopter we could borrow, for the right price.”

Harrison snorted, tossing her head.

“You wouldn’t go to _him_ ,” she scoffed, not buying it, but Gavin thought of how much they needed this, how all the others were in _danger_ , and he stepped forward, voice dropping into something cold and dangerous, feeling like he was watching someone else square up to her.

“Try me.”

Something in her face shifted as she looked at him, seeming to take him more seriously, now. One of the men lurking behind her also looked up, and sneered.

“Who is this kid?” he demanded. “Why’s he here instead of Pattillo? How do we know he even works for Ramsey?”

He strode up to Gavin, who stood his ground, and reached out, prodding him in the chest roughly. Dan let out a warning growl, but the guy ignored him. He reached out and grabbed Gavin’s jaw, tilting his head up.

“Take your hands off me, please,” Gavin said, trying to keep his voice calm. His heart was pounding, unsure of himself but underneath all that, still determined to get this done.

“Or you’ll do what?” the man sneered, his face twisting into an ugly snarl.

Gavin brought a leg up and kicked him swiftly in the balls, putting as much force behind it as he could. It came out of nowhere and the man dropped like a stone. The other guards stepped forward in shock, and Dan drew his gun, but in a moment of sudden confidence Gavin turned to Harrison, perfectly calm.

“I’m not here to play games,” he said, frostily. “I’m here to make a deal. This can end happily for both of us, or we can stop doing business with you entirely. Your choice.”

Harrison stared at him. Then, to Gavin’s surprise, she burst into a fit of laughter. Her guards stirred uneasily, not looking particularly amused themselves, but it seemed Harrison was. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to look Gavin in the eye, something much warmer in it. He felt suddenly like he’d proved himself.

“Ramsey sure knows how to pick them,” she said, shaking her head. “Fine. We have a deal.”

Gavin nodded. Now that the adrenaline was gone his legs trembled; he was relieved beyond words, though he didn’t let it show on his face, only allowing himself to exchange one small, proud grin with Dan.

They had their transport. Michael had told him just before coming in here that Ray had the location.

Now all that was left was the rescue.

 

* * *

 

Since Ray got back to him with the location, MIchael had been working non-stop putting all the pieces in place. He’d never realised there was so much to _do_ before, organising something like this. He had to call in mercenaries, decide who to take, organise transport and scope out the location, then come up with a plan of attack that _wouldn’t_ get them all killed.

As soon as Gavin got back he’d set to hacking into the security cameras around the factory, and it looked like Layton was lying in wait for them - clearly it was a trap, so they couldn’t just waltz right in, and so Michael came up with the idea of sending a wave of mercs out front first to draw out the guards, having Ray snipe them from hiding, and then taking another force around the back to break in there.

It seemed a solid enough plan on paper, but fear wormed deep in his stomach.

_What if it doesn’t work?  
_

_What if I get Ray and everyone else killed?  
_

_What if they have something else up their sleeve?  
_

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Geoff felt, before every heist - how he managed to push that fear away and send them out there to get shit done.

He was standing, staring down at the factory blueprints, lost almost in a daze, when a hand touched his shoulder and made him jump. He spun around and saw that Ray was back. He looked strange with paint smudged all over his face, and blood speckled over the front of his shirt - but his eyes were wide with concern.

“You okay?” he asked softly, and Michael nodded, forcing a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Just hoping this all works.”

"It will,” Ray assured him. “I believe in you.”

Michael smiled again, more genuine this time. He realised Ray was holding himself strangely, and ran his eyes over the other man, frowning at all the blood. Ray noticed, and pulled a face.

“Don’t worry, none of it’s mine. Just fucked up one of the guys to make the others talk…”

He trailed off, looking a bit upset, and Michael reached out and squeezed his shoulder. He remembered how Ray hadn’t even liked to watch Ryan torture someone else. He didn’t do well with violence up close, and Michael regretted asking him to go and do this.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just… you don’t think I’m a monster, right?”

There was something almost childish about the question, about how genuinely worried he sounded, but Michael knew what he meant, and shook his head.

“Of course not,” he said. “I don’t think Ryan is, and I don’t think you are. You did what we had to. If you hadn’t, I would have. But I’m sorry for asking you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ray assured him. “It’s worth it, to get the others back. I… I almost liked it - does that sound awful? - when I thought about how they were the ones who took Geoff and Ryan and Jack, I… I wanted to hurt them. But anyway,” he added quickly, at Michael’s concerned frown, “We don’t have time to chat about it. I’ll talk to Ryan about it, once he’s back.”

Michael nodded, and they walked into the adjoining office where Gavin was monitoring the security feeds. He looked up and waved as they entered. It was strange, seeing him dressed up for once. Usually he didn’t make much of an effort, considering he stayed at the base behind a computer screen anyway. It was a good look on him, Michael noted, absently.

“All ready to go?” Gavin asked, and Michael nodded.

“Yes. You all set?”

Gavin nodded too.

“Yep, I’ll keep an eye on things from here. They’re still waiting for you - if they notice you coming, I’ll alert you, but right now they don’t seem to have a clue we’re about to leave.”

“And no idea where in the building the others are?” Ray asked.

Gavin shook his head.

“I don’t have eyes on them. Whatever room they’re in, it doesn’t have cams in it. But given the blueprints we’ve got, and where the guards are stationed, I figure it’s the room I showed you before, Michael. So head there, first.”

There was a solemn pause as they all registered that there was no more planning left to do. It was time to go and get them.

“Good luck,” Gavin added, softly, and Michael leaned in and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, tugging him in for a kiss. Gavin wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, and Michael took comfort in him for a moment, warm and reassuring and familiar.

They pulled apart and Gavin kissed Ray next, Michael watching the two of them fondly. He could tell Gavin was worried. He would be too, if he was the only one not going to the rescue - worried that it would fail, that the others might get captured too, or worse. But Gavin could be the most help from back here, and Michael would feel a lot better knowing he was safely back at the base.

“Bring them home,” Gavin said, and the other two exchanged a determined look before Michael led the way out.

 

* * *

 

“Ready?” Ryan whispered.

Jack nodded, although his heart was pounding and he had to pause and take a few deep breaths until his hands stopped shaking where he was clutching the razor.

They had all broken free of their bindings, but Jack was the only one really in condition to fight. Ryan was limping heavily, his leg still bleeding and two of his fingers fucked up, and with Geoff’s broken rib he couldn’t move well. Both of them insisted they could still manage, but Jack wasn’t about to let them injure themselves further if they didn’t have to. So their plan consisted of him doing the most to overpower the guards.

Ryan and Geoff exchanged glances. They paused a moment longer, but as it had been for the last hour, all was silent outside, and they nodded at one another before putting the plan into action.

The ceiling was so high up that there was no way to get to the grates that covered the air ducts up on it. Escaping that way was impossible. But the guards didn’t know that, and Ryan and Geoff began kicking at some of the metal sheets and pipes that covered the walls, making banging and clanging noises. Geoff even dropped himself to the ground with a loud _thud_.

“Shhh,” Ryan hissed, a little too loudly. “They’ll fucking hear you!”

They continued kicking up a storm and swearing now and then, as though they were making a failed attempt at climbing. Before long, Jack heard one of the bolts on the door slide open.

“Hey,” one of the guards called out. “What the fuck’s going on in there?”

“Are they free?” he heard another one say.

The rest of the bolts slid open and the door unlocked. Jack saw it open, and moved in quick as a flash. As soon as the first guard entered, he was on them, grabbing them and dragging them towards him before going straight for their jugular with the razor. He struck true, and as soon as he saw blood begin to spurt out, he threw them to the ground and went for the second guard.

Ryan and Geoff had already lunged for the man, wrestling for his gun. It gave Jack the chance to come up and hook an arm around his throat. He was bigger than the man, and soon choked him out, letting him crumple to the floor in the rapidly spreading pool of blood. He snatched up the man’s gun and passed it to Geoff, then took the other’s and held it himself.

“Everyone okay?” he asked, looking over at them - Geoff was gasping for breath and clutching his side, and Ryan’s face was pale, but they both nodded.

“Fucking peachy,” Ryan replied, “Let’s go!”

They wasted no time, hurrying out into the corridor. Everything was silent and empty, but Jack continually glanced around nervously, on-edge that at any moment someone would come along and find them.

Geoff and Ryan couldn’t move very fast, though he could tell that they were pushing themselves. Ryan was leading the way, since he’d seen the factory’s layout earlier, but he was limping heavily with his leg injury, and Jack was concerned that if they were attacked, they wouldn’t be able to fight them off properly.

Suddenly, gunshots rang out somewhere in the distance, followed by shouting and running footsteps. They froze in place, glancing at each other.

“The fuck is that?” Geoff hissed.

Jack bit his lip.

“I think it’s probably the lads,” he replied, and was hit with a flare of worry - this was all Layton’s trap. Had they fallen for it? Were there guards lying in wait?

More yells and gunshots - then a faint explosion, too, that made all of them jump. More footsteps rang out, running through the factory - then they got louder, turning into the corridor they were standing in.

“Shit!” Jack hissed, already raising his gun. The first of the guards rounded the corridor and he began to fire - more and more flooded in, calling out to warn the others as they realised their prisoners had escaped.

Two of them fell under the onslaught of bullets from Jack and Geoff. But the men were in body armour, some of them carrying ballistic shields, and they continued to advance until Jack had emptied his clip and they were forced to back up down the hall.

“Get them back in that fucking room!” one of the men yelled.

“Shouldn’t we just shoot them?” another began.

Luckily, no one had time to answer before Jack launched himself forward, striking out at the nearest man with the butt of the gun. He caught him across the face and he crumpled, but two others moved forward, swinging at him with their firsts. The blows caught him across the face and in the ribs - he stumbled backwards, trying to stay between them and Geoff and Ryan, afraid that the men would start shooting while they were unarmed and defenceless-

The crack of a gunshot made him flinch back, throwing his arms up. But it had come from _behind_ the men, and he saw one of them crumple - more rang out, and the men turned to face this new threat, only to fall under a new hail of bullets.

Jack straightened up, and relief washed over him as he saw Michael advancing, flanked by a dozen of their mercenaries. The other man’s face was hard with anger and fear, but when his eyes fell on Jack it relaxed into a smile.

“Cavalry’s here!” he called out. “Although it looks like you rescued yourself already.”

“We were in deep shit until you came along,” Jack called back, already rushing forward to meet him in a tight hug. Michael’s arms wound around his waist, squeezing tightly. Jack could feel him shaking, and he pulled back only to kiss Michael instead, long and slow.

Geoff and Ryan had limped up by now - Michael turned to them next, hand moving out to run over Ryan’s cheek, leaning in to kiss Geoff as well.

“We were worried. Layton intended this to be a trap,” Ryan commented.

Michael was frowning at his injuries, but he looked up at this, and grinned.

“Yeah, we realised, so those gunshots out the front were a distraction. Ray should’ve taken out most of the guards. Are you guys okay?”

“Had worse,” Ryan replied. “Where’s Gavin?”

“Back at the base,” Michael said. “All three of us got out of the party okay. You’re bleeding, Ry - are you hurt too, Geoff?”

“We’ll be fine as long as we can get the fuck out of here,” Geoff said. He was grinning uncontrollably, clearly relieved both that Michael and the others were okay and that most of Layton’s men were dead now. “Did you put all this together?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, with a small, proud smile. “Things sound quiet out there - let’s go see if Ray’s cleared the rest of them out.”

He reached out and hugged Ryan again before wrapping an arm around the other man’s waist, supporting him as they limped back through the factory. Jack moved to help Geoff, too, the other man shooting him a small smile as they walked.

Things seemed to have quieted down. Most of Layton’s guards had fallen for Michael’s trick, it seemed, and as they exited the front doors of the factory they were greeted with the rather grim sight of dead bodies littered around the front doors, their own mercenaries checking to make sure they were all dead. A truck and some stacks of crates were burning to one side. They seemed to have been hit with a grenade launcher.

“Ray?” Michael called out, still on guard and with his gun in hand.

“Coast’s clear,” Ray’s voice called back before he emerged from the darkness, rifle slung over his shoulder. His face brightened when he saw the others, and he rushed over to greet them.

Jack caught him as he practically threw himself into his arms, meeting his lips in a relieved kiss. He couldn’t express how good it was to see his boys again, especially after having been worried that any rescue attempt would be met with Layton’s own cunning. He should have realised they wouldn’t fall for something like that, he thought wryly. With all three of them working together, they were pretty damn smart.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re okay,” Ray was muttering, as he hugged Jack tightly before pulling back and turning to the others. Michael looked over at Jack and met his eyes, and they exchanged a small smile.

“Gav?” Michael said, suddenly. “Yeah, they’re okay, we’ve got them.”

Jack noticed the comm in his ear, and held out his hand. Michael smiled and passed it over.

“-Layton was one of the ones what got gunned down, he’s over by the truck if you wanna piss on his body or anything,” Gavin was rambling, and Jack couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.

“Jack?” Gavin squawked, sounding delighted. “Shit, you’re okay?”

“Few bruises, but nothing we can’t handle. Sounds like you three planned quite the rescue.”

“We learned from the best.” The glee and relief in Gavin’s voice was audible. “I’m glad you’re alright. Geoff and Ryan are with you?”

“Yes, but they might need some treatment - make sure Caleb’s ready once we get back. Are you okay?” his voice softened. “You must’ve been worried.”

“I held it together,” Gavin said, and Jack gave a small, proud smile. “Get back here quickly, then, love. I want to see all of you.”

“We’ll be there soon,” Jack assured him. He passed the comm back to Michael and turned to the others. Ray was fussing over Ryan’s injury, while Geoff was speaking to some of the mercenaries who’d come on the job. Jack smiled fondly at all of them for a moment, glad that everyone had escaped this in one piece. Geoff noticed him looking, and finished his conversation, turning to him with a warm smile.

Jack smiled back, and looked around at the others.

“Ready to go home?"

 

* * *

 

Ryan’s leg was throbbing dully, but he barely noticed the pain. He was too focused on how warm and content he felt being back here in Geoff’s apartment, lounging on the big bed with the others, safe at last.

Gavin was in his arms, Ryan’s arms wrapped around him and the other man’s head resting against his chest. He hadn’t left Ryan’s side since all the others returned, exclaiming in horror over his injuries and fussing over him, clearly torn between relief that they weren’t more badly hurt and dismay that this had happened in the first place.

Still. Ryan was just glad that everyone was safe, and that he’d gotten the worst of it. Geoff and Jack had been knocked around a little, but if their enemies’ violence had been focused on anyone, it was him, and he was beyond relieved.

Everyone was exhausted after the long night they’d had.

But Layton was dead, and so were all his men. They’d achieved their initial goal, and no one was too badly hurt. All in all, things had ended reasonably well for them.

Michael had been telling them about how they’d organised the rescue plan, but he trailed off into silence now, blinking sleepily where he was lying on the bed. It was well into the small hours of the morning by now.

Eventually, Jack rolled over and reached out to poke at Gavin’s shoulder, smiling fondly at him.

“So you sorted out a deal with Harrison, huh?” he said. “Little mini-me.”

Gavin laughed, a little embarrassed, and Ryan leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I was shitting my pants the whole time,” he replied. “Never again!”

“You might have to,” Jack said, grinning. “So this was good practice.”

“Sounds like you three barely need us anymore,” Geoff teased. “Gearing up to take over, are you? Maybe we should start training you.”

"No,” Michael said right away, a nearly sharp edge in his voice. “We don’t need that. You’re gonna be here to do all that shit.”

Ryan and Geoff exchanged a look, the unspoken pessimism in their faces - _not necessarily_ \- it was a glum reality, but they couldn’t be _sure_. Michael noticed, of course, and scowled.

“Don’t give me that fucking doom and gloom look,” he snapped. “We’re gonna be together, _all_ six of us. We balance each other out, we each do our jobs. Besides, I prefer blowing shit up. It’s more fun than all this planning and paperwork.”

Geoff smiled, and Ryan could tell he was dropping the topic just because they were too tired to bring it up, because it wasn’t nice to think about after all that had happened today.

“Maybe _I_ wanna blow things up now and then,” he teased instead. Michael rolled his eyes and swatted at him, and Geoff pulled a horrible face and gave an exaggerated moan of pain that sounded far more like he was struggling with constipation.

“How dare you,” he cried, in a rather shrill voice. “I’m injured!”

“You’re an idiot, that’s what,” Michael grumbled, but rolled over on the bed to pull him into a kiss.

Gavin snuggled closer, and Ryan hugged him tightly. He was glad the other man was okay - he’d been worried about him, first concerned that he hadn’t gotten out of the mansion, then that he might be freaking out about the rest of them being captured. But Gavin twisted his head to look at him now, and gave him a soft smile.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“Just tired,” Ryan replied, dropping a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Jack must’ve heard him, because he looked up and smiled.

“We’re all tired,” he said. “I think it’s time we went to sleep, it’s getting pretty late!”

Ryan nodded, and untangled himself from Gavin, murmuring something about going to get a drink. He left the room as the rest of them began shuffling around, arranging themselves in the bed, and padded out to the living room where he paused in front of the big window overlooking Achievement City. After a moment he pressed his forehead to the cool glass and took a deep breath.

He’d been trying not to think about it, but he was uneasy. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Layton had said, about Edgar wanting to hurt them from beyond the grave. It scared him, the thought that there might be other men out there who would try to continue Edgar’s work.

He was trying to hold things together for the others, but it was pretty fucking terrifying. He’d thought they were free of this, that things had ended when they’d killed Edgar. What he’d learned today was that they hadn’t, and it made him want to go hard and cold again, to distance himself and focus on nothing but eradicating the threat. Then it might be safe to _care_ again.

But he couldn’t do that. He had the others now, and he wasn’t about to push them away. Being with them had helped him a lot these last few months - but it also meant he had a big, glaring weak spot. Today Layton’s men had focused on hurting him. What if next time, whoever took them hurt the others instead?

He heard soft footsteps behind him, and in the dark glass of the window he saw Ray moving towards him from the bedroom. The other man sidled up next to him, and Ryan turned. He began to force a smile, but the sympathetic, knowing look on Ray’s face told him he didn’t have to, and he let it drop.

“Shitty day, huh?” Ray asked, and Ryan let out a little huff of breath.

“Happy ending, though,” he replied, trying to be optimistic, but Ray wasn’t buying it.

“Still,” he said. “That had to be scary for you.”

Ryan looked away.

“Yeah,” he admitted, quietly.

Ray was silent for a moment. Then his hand slipped into Ryan’s, squeezing gently, mindful of the two fingers that were splinted. Ryan looked down at him, taking note of the dark shadows under his eyes, the funny haunted look to his face. He remembered what Michael had said Ray had done on this job. That couldn’t have been nice. Ryan knew his own first few times committing acts of such brutal violence hadn’t been fun. Putting on the role of the Mad Mercenary took a lot of getting used to, and the ease with which he did it mostly came from how often he himself had been hurt before - how he’d grown used to detaching himself from things.

He tugged Ray close to his side and leaned down to press a kiss to his hair.

“Want to talk about it?” Ray asked after a moment, putting an arm around Ryan’s waist and huddling closer to him.

“Do you?” Ryan asked instead, and Ray paused, then shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he admitted. “Let’s just… enjoy this, that things turned out well. You’re allowed to do that, you know,” he added dryly, glancing up at Ryan. “You don’t always have to be on edge, like if you let your guard down for a second things will go wrong and it’ll be your fault for not being prepared enough. That’s not how it works. You’re allowed to be happy. We can deal with all the rest of this shit later on.”

Somehow, it was exactly what Ryan had needed to hear. Once he wouldn’t have been able to let things go - but he’d come a long way since then. He let his shoulders relax, and hugged Ray tighter.

“You’re right,” he said. And then, “I love you.”

He saw Ray’s face soften too, the stress and darkness easing away.

“I love you too,” he replied.

Ryan smiled. The two of them were probably some of the least open about saying that, but tonight, it was nice to admit it and not be scared that the others would be taken away, that somehow admitting how much he cared out loud would jinx everything only make it hurt even more to lose them. That wouldn’t happen. It hadn’t happened today, and it wouldn’t in the future, and if Layton had tried to do anything to Jack and Geoff in that room Ryan would have jumped up off the ground and snapped his neck in a second. That he was sure of.

But there was no need to think about that now.

Instead, he hugged Ray close, and kissed him again, and let himself have this one night to try and forget about things, secure in the knowledge that the others waited for him safe and happy in the next room.

**Author's Note:**

> [Awesome fanart](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149959743004/doodlematte-its-really-small-but-i-literally) by doodlematte, thank you so much! <3


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